The New Arrivals
by TheShadeOps
Summary: The 141 gain a member from Australia. With him, a brand new weapon system. Will this bring the 141 to new heights or will it bring them to their knees? - Please review. Sort of an Action/Comedy. - COMPLETE
1. Wait, What?

Well, here it is. My first fic. I intend to stagger my releases. I have planned so I am always writing two chapters ahead of what I post. Allows me a bit more wriggle room for time, as well as pressure. No references to the actual story, just the characters.

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

Enjoy.

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Chapter 1 - **Wait, what?**

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"Wait, what?"

That was the first question asked, by Roach, at the end of the 141's monthly full unit briefing. These were held with the purpose of allowing the entire task force to keep up to date with current events, regulation changes and reminders, upcoming events and missions, and general news. However, on this one, Soap had announced something new. The 141 was going to receive a new member. This wouldn't be surprising if had they just lost someone. But they hadn't been on a major mission for over four months, and there had been no losses to the unit since then.

"You seem worried Roach, what are you fretting about?" Soap asked.

"The new guy. Where is he coming from?" continued Roach.

"Well, according to his paperwork, he is transferring over from the 2nd Commando Regiment."

"I've never heard of them," said Meat. Rook's face lit up from what appeared to be a mix of boredom and fatigue upon hearing the transfer's base unit. Just as Soap was about to reply to Meat, Rook jumped in.

"You've never heard of the 2nd Commandos? Wow, you live under a rock Meat. They're a Special Forces group from Australia. You know, where I'm from." With this, Rook pointed to the Australian flag affixed to his sleeve, sitting above the 141 patch. "And don't worry. I've worked with 2CDO before, while I was still in the SASR. They're top notch, like us."

"So, we're getting another Aussie?" said Roach, a hint of worry in his voice. He was worried, as Rook was an odd man in Roach's eyes. Only last month did Rook, along with the 141's master prankster team of Meat and Royce, set up pressure-release stink packets under Roach's mattress. His room stunk for at least a week, the mattress having absorbed the smelly fluid the packets dispersed. Roach had gotten them back with the assistance of Scarecrow and Ozone, in an event that would be known as the Great Prank War. Now that another Australian was coming, Roach thought he would be screwed if GPW II broke out.

"Well, if there's nothing else to discuss, then you all are dismissed."

_2 Days Later_

Roach was one of the last people to find out about anything that occurred in the base, outside of the briefings. He was the last to know about parties, prank wars, pickup points. You name it, he was last to it. That didn't change for meeting new arrivals. However, today would be a change. He had intercepted a piece of mail destined for Soap with the exact arrival time of the new guy, as well as the room he would be placed in. With that crucial piece of intel, he planned to be one of the first soldiers he met, after Soap and Ghost. As he neared his destination, he started hearing music. It had a definite hip-hop vibe to it, but was nothing that Roach was used to. And he had heard a lot of hip-hop, courtesy of Toad and Worm. He stood outside the door, numbered 0617. Taking a deep breath, he put his hand on the handle of the door, twisted it, opened the door and stepped in. What he was almost had him feint from extreme surprise.

The walls, normally a dull grey, were covered in military-themed posters and pictures. Some of them were pictures of the new guy in the field, both the desert and the forest. He had been to Afghanistan, Iraq, Korea, Papua New Guinea and other places, from what Roach could gauge from the images. One wall was dedicated to a huge framed collection of patches from international SF teams. Patches included DEVGRU, Spetzgruppa Alpha, the SAS, 1st SFOD-D and the Kommando Spezialkrafte. The wardrobe, left open, was filled with plate carriers, helmets, hats and uniforms. The bed was made to immaculate precision, even making Soap's bed look like that of a recruit. However, there was no sign of the new guy. Fearing he would walk up beside him, Roach backed away slowly and closed the door. He was impressed. The new guy had taste. He had to go tell the others about this.

"Meat, Royce, Archer, guys! I just was in the new guy's room. You would not believe what he has in there!" The men in the rec-room just looked at Roach, having destroyed any peaceful mood in the room, and went back to what they were doing. Meat and Royce were duelling it out in a match of their favourite shooter game, Archer was reading a novel, Toad was browsing for rifle accessories online with his laptop and Rook went back to sleep on the couch. Roach, seeing this, felt defeated and headed back to his room.

_How the hell did he get all those patches? He must be as old, if not older, than Soap to have worked with those guys during his career._ Roach was deep in thought as he walked back to his bunk. Suddenly, he found himself on the floor at one of the passageway intersections. On his right, another soldier was on the floor. After a quick exchange of insults for not watching where they were going, they parted ways. But then Roach stopped. That voice. He knew every voice in the Task Force, but that voice was unfamiliar. When he retorted at Roach's insult, it was with a phrase he knew only one other operator, Rook, to use. The alarm bells in Roach's head set off. He had just run into the new guy.

Quickly turning around, Roach took off after him. Maintaining a steady pace and distance behind him, Roach was able to study and profile the recruit. He was tall, about six feet two and a half inches. He had short brown hair, was clean shaven, had brown eyes, and broad shoulders. He was wearing a set of camouflage pants, identical to what Rook wore occasionally, and a black close-fitting T-shirt. Running out of hallway to follow him, Roach ducked into an open room, instantly running into a familiar mask carrying a small stack of boxes.

"Ghost! I didn't mean to run into you sir," said Roach, stepping aside to let Ghost past.

"You better watch where you're walking bug. I don't want to mistakenly step on you." Ghost brushed past Roach, heading towards Soap's office with a sense of urgency. Something was up with Ghost, but Roach did not have the time or the balls to find out what it was. Stepping back outside, Roach tried to regain sight of the new guy. But he could not see him. Realising he had lost him, Roach made his way back to the rec room. Maybe he'd have a chance to actually talk to him.


	2. Distant Thunder

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

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Chapter 2 - **Distant Thunder**

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The next morning, at 4:30 am, in the 141's rec room, the bulk of the team were seated at the table having breakfast. Ghost and Soap always had theirs in Soap's office, trying to maintain that shred of peace in the base. Meal times were usually the loudest times in the rec room, coming after parties and fights. Toad and Archer were up in the kitchen, cracking open some more eggs while Meat and Royce started bickering over who got the last strips of bacon. Ozone, Scarecrow, Rook and Chemo were reading copies of newspapers from both the local area and countries of origin. The others were making small talk about tactics, Shepard and Shadow Company, and home.

Roach had walked in still in the clothes he slept in, still half tired. The 5am starts still killed him, despite serving with the 141 for two years. In he walked, wearing a grey singlet, MTP combat pants, and grey runners, carrying a bottle of water and towel.

"Morning guys, what's new?" Roach asked while still yawning.

"Nothing much Roach," replied Chemo. "Someone got re-elected leader of some country, some team won some sports match and Magpul released a new series of stocks and grips." This got a laugh from most of the guys, Chemo's interest, or lack-thereof, for politics and sports showing.

"So, just another d- Meat!" shouted Roach, drawing attention to Meat and Royce, where the former had pinned down the latter to the table and ate the last piece of bacon in front of him. "Always the one to get the last piece Meat, it's no wonder that you got that nickname."

"Hey, I resent that" said Meat, still chewing the piece of bacon. "I got my nickname because I took a through-and-through to the leg on my first mission with Delta Force. I said it was just a flesh wound and I got 'Meat' as a result. Has nothing to do with my eating habits." With that, he released Royce from his grip, collected his plate and utensils, and stood from the table. Toad and Archer had given up on the eggs at this point, and were sitting in front of the TV set tuned to CNN. Roach took this chance to grab a bowl and some corn flakes. It wasn't until he smelt the aroma of sausages cooking on a frying pan when he realised he wasn't the only one in the kitchen.

"Hey, no one mentioned there being snags this morning," called Rook from the table, reading the comics in his newspaper.

"Rook, what have we said about using Aussie English in front of us?" said Archer. "For the last time, use terms that we can ALL understand. No one here knows what a fucking snag is."

"I do," said an unfamiliar voice. Roach spun his head, as it was the mystery cook behind him who said it. "If you were to use your brain for once Archer, you'd have figured that snag is another word for sausage, which is what I happen to be cooking up. Now, do you want one or not?"

"Hey, new guy, since when did you cook?" called back Archer, now curious.

"It's Shade, and I've been cooking since I was 15," said Shade.

"Shade, couple of questions. One, how did you get that nickname, and two, what the hell are those sausages made of, because they smell great," asked Rook.

"Well, Rook," started Shade, having to look around to identify the questioner. "I'll answer the first one after brekky, and they are beef sausages with chopped up chilli and salsa mixed in." With that, Shade turned off the hotplate and put the newly cooked sausages on a plate. Everyone had gathered around the table to see these snags, and to finally meet the new guy. Roach had finished his cereal at this point and was watching from the kitchen bench.

"So, I assume everyone had heard that I am the new guy," started Shade. "Well, allow me to introduce myself fully. I'm Thomas Williams, though I've gone by Shade for the majority of my military career. I came from the 2nd Commando Regiment, down in Australia, after serving just shy of four years with them. Before that, I was a standard run-of-the-mill infantryman for another four years. I like most forms of music, enjoy decent action flicks, and my weapon of choice is an F88SA2 Austeyr with an ACOG and front grip folded up."

"So Shade," started Roach. "Why were you pinned with that name?" Everyone lent forward, eager to hear how Shade got his name. The majority of operators that joined 141 arrived with some kind of nickname. Those that had bad ones or had nothing at all were given one.

"Well, after I had arrived to the home base of my unit, I spent the first few weeks sneaking around to avoid being interrupted when talking to my girl. This involved me hiding around corners, behind couches, sitting up the back at briefings, being the last in line for mess, all to keep in contact with loved ones. It got so bad that the regiment's Warrant Officer called me to a meeting about my shady behaviour. When word got out that I had been caught, the rumour was that I had been dealing with shady people doing shady things. So, the name Shade stuck. Even after it was revealed that I was just trying to talk to my girl. Thank god the rumour was the source of the name; otherwise I'd have been stuck with something like Lover Boy."

There was a second or two of silence, broken when Royce started to laugh quietly. This escalated when Meat, Toad and Rook also started to laugh, and it just got louder and louder until everyone other than Shade and Archer were laughing. When it started to settle, Toad was the first to speak.

"Well, that has to be one of the more pathetic ways to get a name. But, we'll let you keep it."

"So, any questions guys?" asked Shade, sitting down beside Archer at the table.

"Yea," started Roach. "Where'd you get all those patches that you have in your room?" The room instantly became silent.

"What patches? The ones I keep in that glass frame? Well, before I kill you for entering my room without my say so mate, I got them from exchange programs my unit had with other forces in the special operations community," explained Shade. "Any other questions?" When no-one spoke up, Shade stood up and headed towards the door. "Well, if you think of anything, I'll be at the range."


	3. The First Shots

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

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Chapter 3 - **The First Shots**

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_6 weeks later..._

"Hey guys! Mail run is here!"

The voice of Rook was suddenly drowned out by the rush of movement and bodies towards the three cart loads of letters and packages sent to the men from their units, families, and banks.

"Ah crap. My car got stolen," started Meat, reading a letter from his insurance company. "At least the thing was due to be replaced anyway. Not like I'm driving it anyway."

"Hey hey!" shouted Toad, opening a large envelope. "My sister got hooked up! And knocked up by the look of things." With this, he held up some ultrasound pictures. Chemo stepped over to take a look.

"Set of twins, boy and girl. Your sister is in for a handful. Congrats, Uncle Toad." With that, Toad blushed, having just realised that he will be an uncle.

"Hey, who's this large piece of crap belong to?" asked Scarecrow, pulling one of two large, green, military style footlockers from the bottom of one of the cart.

"That's mine Crow," called Shade, stepping in to take the load. "I asked my brother to ship some extra stuff for me over. Glad he listened to me for once. Hey Roach, you mind helping me carry this to my room?"

"Yeah, whatever Shade." Roach placed his mail in his cargo pocket and lowered to pick up the end of the locker. "One, two, three, lift!"

Carrying the footlocker back to Shade's room was no easy task. He 'lived' on the top floor of the barracks, and there were no elevators. This meant that they had to travel up the stairs with a bulky load, one of them going backwards. When they reached the door to Shade's room, Roach had to take the majority of the load as Shade fished for his key. Upon entering, they dropped the locker on his bed. Just as Roach was about to step out, Shade called him back.

"I want you to see this, because it might just help you out in the next prank war."

"Wait, how did you know I was a prankster?" Before he could get an answer, Shade had cracked open the lid of the footlocker. Inside was a full armoury of weapons. There were handguns, battle rifles, sniper rifles, short barrel rifles, and plenty of magazines and ammunition to stave off a massive riot. Shade pulled out one of the rifles, showing off its bright yellow and dark grey colour scheme, with the black NERF logo emblazoned on the side.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Shade, who started to pull out each weapon to lay it on the bed.

"You sir, are bloody amazing. How many did you get your brother to send?"

"Well, I asked for around 10 rifles, 10 snipers, 20 handguns, and enough ammo and attachments to suit. There should be another locker in that mail run. We'll have to go and grab it, and bring it here. After that, we'll need to do a full inventory." Suddenly the door opened up and two fellow operators, Scarecrow and Archer, stood outside, with the second footlocker.

"This one also had your name on it Shade. We thought we'd bring it down here for you..." Archer's voice trailed off, his gaze shifting from Shade and Roach to the arsenal of Nerf guns on the bed. A large grin started to form when he spotted the sniper rifles, Longshot and Longstrike CS-6s, each fitted with optics suited for the kind of ammo these guns fired. "So, Shade... what are these for exactly?"

"Well, if you come inside, shut the door and promise not to ruin the surprise, then I'll tell you..."

_Outside, after PT, a day later._

Soap and Ghost were resting against the fence on the outside of the obstacle course, Soap smoking a cigar while Ghost studying a clipboard with the times and scores of some of the men.

"Ghost, what are your thoughts on the new man, Shade?"

"He's a bit odd sir. But I must admit he is damn good. But that odd side might hamper him in combat."

"Look at yourself Ghost. You're odder than him. He doesn't go around parading in a balaclava and sunglasses twenty-four seven." With that, Soap made a quick movement with his hand to imitate removing Ghost's mask.

"You bloody-well know why I wear this mask. I find myself less vicious and scary with the mask _on_." Out of nowhere, Soap's cigar flew out of his mouth and onto the ground, accompanied by a small piece of pink foam. The expression on Soap's face was priceless, Shade thought. He crouched inside the course's observation tower. He had Scarecrow set up a Longshot sniper rifle in its pieces inside a small pack in the tower. This allowed Shade to move from the course straight to the tower. He could see Soap and Ghost looking all around for the source of the pink foam dark. But as Shade was about to egress from his firing point, he spotted a new target of opportunity. It was Ghost's newer pair of sunglasses. They were perched on top of his own bag, a mere fifty metres away from Ghost. He had four different sets. One set was for general wear, one for getting dirty during training, one for deployments and missions, and a newer set for when he wanted to look more badass.

He knew the shot was risky but had a huge payoff, as the bag was on the edge of the seat, next to an open top bin that hadn't been emptied in a week. If he landed the shot on the glasses, he could get them to fall into the bin, getting covered in who-knows-what. Shade cycled the bolt on the gun, and took aim on the glasses. Unlike the stock model Longshots and other types Shade had brought over, these had revamped springs, increasing the range from twenty meters to well over two hundred meters. This while still maintaining a safe speed to avoid severe injury if hit in the face or eyes. They stung, but less than that of a paintball or airsoft round.

Shade, knowing this, had set the sights up to make the shot, now to make it when the time was right. Ghost was standing over his bag now; his dirty set of sunglasses in his hand, reaching for his new set. _Clunk._ The round flew out of the barrel and into the air, covering the range easily in a second before hitting the glasses cleanly in the right lens, sending them flying into the bin. The dark also fell in, removing the little piece of evidence in the process.

"What the fuck was that?!" Ghost shouted. Shade quickly disassembled the rifle and stowed them in his pack. After climbing down, he jogged over to make it seem like he was responding to the shout of surprise.

"Sir, what happened?" Shade asked with a slight touch of mischief in his voice.

"Something flew over and knocked my new set of sunglasses into the bin here. They're covered in shit now. That's two-fifty bucks down the drain." Ghost replied, with a mixed tone of grief and anger.

"Well, what can I say? Unlucky I guess." As Shade turned around, he could hear Ghost make an attempt at retrieval, only to shout again when his hand felt something slimy and disgusting. Oh, the fun that was going to start.


	4. Escalation

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

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Chapter 4 - **Escalation**

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A few days after the sunglasses incident, each operator in the base awoke to find a Nerf tactical vest, a Maverick, and a primary weapon at the foot of their doors, plus a container of ammo to last them a while. Each operator's primary was different. Toad had a Longstrike, reflective of his role as a Sniper; Ozone had a Recon with a folding stock and lightweight barrel, for his role of a CQC Breaching Specialist; Rook also had a Recon, but with a collapsing stock like an M4, the standard Recon barrel, and the dual-mode light/laser; Meat and Royce both had Rayven CS-18s, fitted with red-dot sights, just to name a few kits.

Everyone also had a note to which read:

_You have been put on notice. __**This is war.**_

_Everyone for themselves. Form a team if you wish._

_Kill – Hit within an inch of the heart. Hit in the neck. Hit in the heart. When dead, cease engagement, weapon above head, walk to the barracks. Dead men don't tell tales._

_Barracks is designated safe zone. Safe zone radius is 100m from each main entrance. Upon spawning/respawning, you have 30 seconds to get away before you are clear to fire or be fired upon._

_Most confirmed kills wins._

**_Good luck._**

_S-A-S-R_

"Hey Rook!" called Meat. Rook was in the middle of putting his vest on when Meat called from down the hall.

"What is it Meat?"

"Any idea what the hell what S-A-S-R means?" Meat had already rigged up, wearing a blue t-shirt, jeans, kneepads, range glasses, plus the supplied vest. He had even adapted his weapon sling to fit his Rayven. "I know it's an acronym, just unsure what it stands for."

"Well, at first glance, I would assume that the Aussie SASR is up here and playing with our minds. However, I know that if they were SASR, they wouldn't have hyphenated each letter. They don't do that kind of thing."

"Then who do you think it is?" Ozone had walked up, also kitted up for action. He was wearing his sandy tan long sleeve top, with sleeves rolled, Multicam trousers, and his Multicam cap. "I can't think of anyone else."

Upon saying that, an air horn sounded, followed by an announcement on the PA. The voice being broadcast was garbled, like it was being put through a filter.

"Attention players. You have ONE minute to gear up and find a starting point. When the two horn burst is made, the game shall begin!"

The entire barracks building erupted in a sea of chaos. Everyone tossed their vests on, donned their gear, and loaded their weapons. Archer could not contain himself on how they took it all so seriously. He and Roach were on the rooftop of the mess hall, observing the scene below.

"Shade, they're all in. You sure this is a good idea?"

"From what I've heard, you guys haven't had a good mission in six months. I think everyone's a little pent up with action by now. This will be a good release." Shade replied, using a personal radio with headset and a secluded frequency. He was over by the briefing hall, with Scarecrow, waiting for their first victims. Shade had picked his own custom Recon. It had a collapsing stock, grip with spring deployed bipod, a red-dot sight, and two 12 round mags taped together jungle style. This allowed him to simply flip the magazines to reload them. Scarecrow had taken something which Shade thought was odd. He had opted to take just the Maverick. It was odd, until Shade saw his reason why. It turned out Scarecrow was a free-runner, and intended to exploit his skill in this mini-war. Shade looked back at the team he formed up. He only intended to have Roach by his side, but he had to drag in Archer and Scarecrow as they saw his massive cache of weapons. They were fortunate enough to be the ones who stumbled across Shade's plan in the first place. He wanted Roach has his ability to get into tight places and be able to survive was valuable. Archer, being one of the 141's snipers, had the ability to get some ranged kills from above, and Scarecrow's agility allowed him to escape and evade from any confrontation. Shade reflected on what he'd bring to the team.

Shade was the master at controlling the engagement. Since his tours with the 2nd Commandos, he'd always been able to know where the enemy was, how they would react, and how to counter that reaction. If the enemy was running, and was completely unaware, he would simply sidestep, wait for them to pass, and take them out from behind. If the enemy was staying put and expecting him, he would go low and take the shot from the corner. Shade had won many gunfights that way.

Two bursts of the air horn sounded, followed by Archer on the radio. "Shade, Scarecrow. You got two tangos headed your way. Looks like Chemo and Reaper. I've got no solution. Looks like they have no idea you're there."

"Thanks Archer. You can displace. Engage if you see fit." Shade then pulled Scarecrow closer to him. "Look, what I'll get you to do is jump out from here, fire a shot at their head level. Keep moving till you get over that guardrail and dive to cover. As soon as you hit that rail, I'll take the shot from here and try to get the kill. Don't be afraid to take a second shot." Scarecrow nodded in response, and readied his Maverick. Shade checked his sights to make sure they were on.

"You really think this is a good place to start, down in the hall?" Reaper's voice sounded feint. He was trying to be quiet, but his deep voice prevented from going too quiet.

"It's not the best, but everyone else will head to the rec-room and mess hall. It'll be a proverbial blood-bath there. Best wait it out here and go and track the stragglers."Chemo's plan sounded good, had he not counted on Shade and Scarecrow to be waiting around the corner. Upon him finishing, Scarecrow lept out, firing a single shot. Chemo and Reaper both let their weapons fly, Reaper's Stampede letting loose a volley of rounds. The second he hit the rail, Scarecrow let another shot fly, quickly sliding under the rain and into the small bushes lining the path. Shade took this chance to take a shot at Reaper's neck. He landed a solid shot in his throat, followed by another shot to Chemo's forehead. Both of them did not see it coming.

"This is gonna be a long day mates if you keep this up." Shade said, before cocking his weapon once more and vaulting over the rail to catch up with Scarecrow. "Gonna be a long day indeed."


	5. The Furball

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

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Chapter 5 - Furball

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Upon seeing Chemo and Reaper both returning to the Barracks this early in the game meant something was wrong. Meat, Royce and Rook had all teamed up together, having formed a three-man element. They decided to try and use police tactics and negotiate a confrontation instead of resorting to a complete and overwhelming wall of fire. It was Royce's call to take the route that the pair had taken. But upon reaching the corner of the briefing hall, all they found were a mess of foam darts.

"Wow, whoever took them out was good. They didn't have a chance." Meat picked up one of the darts.

"It was a fast engagement, that's for sure." Royce started checking the area for movement.

"It was Shade. I know it." Rook said.

"How the hell can you be so sure this early?" Meat asked, surprised at Rook's guess of the shooter.

"It's a technique we're taught in the ADF when training in the SASR and 2CDOs. Shade had a wingman. The first man ran out and both delivered distracting fire and drew enemy fire while Shade took aimed shots at Chemo and Reaper. Reaper must have gotten a burst off but not hit his mark. I didn't see either of Shade or the second man walk back to the spawn."

"Well, that tactic worked to the desired effect." Royce said, with a hint of concern.

"That also explains the ending acronym. Who was missing from the barracks earlier?"

"Uh, I didn't see Shade, Roach, Archer or Scarecrow at all. Wait a minute. Shade, Archer, Scarecrow, and Roach. S, A, S, R. That's it! Those four are organising this war."

"Great. We're up against an infiltrator, a sniper, a free-runner and the new guy with tactical control. We're all screwed."

"Not if we watch where we walk and maintain cover. Each man in their squad has their flaws." Rook turned his head, and drew his weapon to fire, aiming it square at Driver, who had waltzed around the corner carelessly. It earned him a walk back to the barracks. "We gotta keep moving. We're exposed here."

Meanwhile, Archer and Roach had shifted posts to the rec-room vent system. They had held point above the central room, and observed the chaos that erupted below. Klepto, Toad, Knight, Devil and Doc had taken cover in the kitchen, exchanging fire with Bishop, Ozone, Mice, Rhino and Keeper. It was a hail of foam darts flying back and forth. Then Chemo and Reaper, who had respawned, entered from the doorway leading into the kitchen and nailed Klepto's squad. After he sent them packing, Reaper levelled his Stampede at Bishop's team. With a quick exchange of hand signals and hand movements, everyone lowered their weapons. Chemo and Reaper had just gained four more men. _So much for every man for themselves. Maybe they'll get frustrated with each other and shoot each other._

"Shade, its Roach. We've just observed a change in the game. Chemo and Reaper have teamed up with four others, lead by Bishop. Things are going to get real hairy soon. Still no sign of Meat, Royce and Rook however. We've made a moving kill on Hornet and Wasp while on the move to the rec-room. We'll keep you posted."

"Roach, track the new team and tell Archer to make discrete kills."

Roach turned down his headset and turned to Archer, who was behind him. "Archer, Shade says to follow that group and thin them out. Try to make it discrete. Got it?" Archer held a thumb up to Roach, and started to move. It took them five minutes to navigate out of the vents, and regain the trail of Chemo's group. Roach and Archer had both reverted to their Mavericks and were following closely, about fifty metres away. Then all hell broke loose. Meat and Royce had passed in front of Chemo and Bishop. They exchanged fire, which had missed but come close to hitting Archer. Upon seeing them, Royce and Rook pushed forward. Reaper and Rhino had also spotted Archer and Roach, and had fired on them as well. There was a three-way furball in progress in the courtyard. Archer took at hit to the chest, followed by another to the cheek. Complying with the rules he helped write, he raised his gun above his head and walked safely to the barracks. Roach, seeing this, fired off a round towards Rhino and ducked around the corner, trying to get to safety. Royce had downed Reaper and Bishop, while Mice and Ozone had maintained a defensive posture and were supplying fire to wherever it was needed. By the time the fight had ended, only Meat, Rook, Ozone, Mice and Rhino were left. They had separated into individuals now, and had levelled the playing field.

"Shade, its Roach. Archer's down and is respawning. We got into a massive fire fight with Meat, Bishop and company. Give me a current position and I'll regroup on you."

"We're about to breach into the admin block. We saw Toad and Devil go there after they respawned. We'll hook up with you once we're clear."

"Roger, good luck guys."

Shade had turned his radio down and held up three fingers to Scarecrow. He counted down and on zero, quickly opened the door. What they saw next had them freeze. Soap and Ghost were in the middle of the hall, behind a overturned table, and were facing the now open door. They were both armed with Vulcan belt-fed machine guns. _I never brought them over! Where the hell did they come from?_

"Scarecrow, RUN!" But they didn't have the chance. The second they stepped back, Soap and Ghost opened up. They had showered the two men in darts, both scoring kills.

"I'm enjoying this, beats hunting down terrorists every day, huh Ghost?"

"Too right sir." Ghost picked up his Vulcan and attached his sling to it. Swinging it around his back, he picked up two Stockade revolvers. Looking to his companion, he saw Soap had done the same with his Vulcan, but instead had equipped himself with a Longstike with no barrel extension.

"What can I say, I prefer the feel of a proper rifle." Ghost started to laugh as the two 141 commanders strode out of the admin block and into the fight. Things were only just going to fire up from here. Archer, who had just respawned, ducked into the small ditch between the motor pool and obstacle course, concealing himself from the new players.

"Uh guys, we got a problem."

"If you are talking about MacTavish and Ghost, then we already know. We ran into them at Admin," Shade said, trying to organise a plan of attack. "We've just respawned and are clear of the safe zone. Where are they?"

"It looks like they're headed to the courtyard end of the briefing hall. I'll keep you posted on their location as long as I can." The second Archer ended the transmission, Chemo spotted him and fired. Luckily he missed, and Archer was able to make a kill shot. Chemo shook his head, swearing quietly as he walked back to the barracks.


	6. Drop The Soap

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. This chapter has slight homosexual references, only for laughs., but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

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Chapter 6 - Drop The Soap

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Chemo, Reaper, Bishop and company had managed to regroup at the barracks, having been taken out all at the same time by Soap and Ghost. Klepto's group also met up at the barracks, due to Shade and his team. The two leaders struck up an alliance, forming a twelve-man team.

"Klepto, got any ideas on how to take out the commanders?" Chemo was desperate for ideas. The need to take down Soap and Ghost was priority.

"None at all I'm afraid. Any sign of Shade's and Rook's teams?" Klepto asked. "It's going to be damn impossible to take on those two groups as well as the commanders."

"If we know Shade and Rook, they'll keep their sights on each other. They'll disengage if they get lit up by Mactavish and Ghost. As far as those two are concerned, we hit 'em from behind. Kills have to be the neck, head or an inch or less from the heart. If we hit them on the back, on their left, we'll be closer at hitting the heart." Ozone said. He had brought up a valid point. Indeed, Shade and Rook will be preoccupied on each other too much to worry about the commanders. However, things could get ugly if they join forces with either group.

The massive force moved to the courtyard, where upon splitting into small three man teams, dispersed throughout the base. Chemo, Mice and Toad took the north, headed towards Admin. Bishop, Reaper and Keeper headed south to the briefing hall. Ozone, Klepto and Devil headed east to the rec-room and the last three, Doc, Rhino and Knight, headed west for the obstacle course and motor pool. They would not leave a stone unturned in finding and killing the remaining 141 operators.

_15 minutes later..._

Captain John Price was in his office in admin, too engrossed in reading and re-reading reports involving Makarov and his escapades. He didn't notice the huge racket that Soap and Ghost had caused when they fired upon Shade and Scarecrow. But taking a small break from the computer screen, he did take notice of the screams from outside his window and the small foam darts impacting the glass. Opening the window a fraction, safe behind the fitted fly screen, he observed the scene outside.

"Mice, keep your fucking head down! Archer's up on the roof!" Chemo screamed, popping up and down from cover while keeping Scarecrow and Roach pinned down.

"Toad! Give me some fire support here! Make sure you hit Shade first!" Mice shouted back, having seen Shade make a dash from cover to the corner of the building nearby.

"Chemo, I need a mag! I can't fire at him from here unless I get a mag!" Toad yelled out while dropping his Longshot and pulling out his Maverick, hoping to hit something with it. Price had to laugh. He too had been left a note and kit, but had just shoved it aside and went to work on reading up on intel. But studying the scene below, he had to hand it to the 141. Even when the risk of being killed was very low, the men were treating this as if it was a real fight. They were living up to the classic training and combat motto: Train like you fight, fight like you train.

_Meanwhile..._

"Meat! Royce! Get outta here! They're unstoppable!" Rook was screaming this as he ran away from the two commanders armed with machineguns. They had turned the corner of the walkway just as Rook, Royce and Meat had, at the opposite end. There was a standoff that lasted two seconds, before Soap opened up and Rook turned tail and bolted. Royce had been hit and was walking back to respawn, and as Soap and Ghost took aim to fire on Meat, they ran out of ammo in their belts. Meat saw the chance to fire back, but didn't take it and ran instead, leaving the two other men to reload.

"Ghost, you see Rook run like that? If only he ran like that on the course. He'd be top of the board." Soap laughed.

"Too right sir. Can't wait to crush the bug though. He's had this coming to him for a while now." Ghost said.

The two men, now reloaded with a fresh set of ammo, set off in the direction that Rook and Meat had ran.

"It'll take much more than that to drop the Soap." Soap said, deadpan. Ghost stopped in his tracks, amazed at what his CO had just said.

"Uh, sir? Did you just say what I thought you said?" Ghost had to facepalm, and started laughing after Soap had indeed just realised what he said.

"I never meant it _that way..."_

_Back outside admin..._

"Archer, keep their heads down. I'm going to circle and flank, hit em from behind." Shade had said this over their radio net, as he moved from the corner of the building to the other end. This would take him to the six of Chemo's team. As soon as he disabled them, he could proceed to take the rest out.

But as he turned around to clear his corner, he heard fast paced footsteps from his own six. Turning around, ready to confront the threat, he saw Rook and Meat. Running for their lives. Followed by Soap and Ghost. He couldn't help but feel sorry for the two younger men, scared out of their lives by their commanders. But he decided to break his own set RoE and help out his enemy.

"Rook, Meat, Slide down!" As they complied, Shade drew his Recon and Maverick and aimed each at Soap and Ghost. The second Meat slid past, Shade fired. The two rounds flew towards with such speed that even Soap didn't realise he was about to be hit. Soap took at hit to the face, while Ghost was hit in the chest, not guarding his heart. Shade sidestepped the darts they had fired already before they were killed, before helping Rook up and continuing his task of taking out Chemo's group.

Soap and Ghost decided to RTB to their offices, instead of the barracks, to respawn and resupply. Rook just stood there, watching as Shade ducked around the far corner to kill Chemo.

"Did he just save our lives?" Meat asked, confused as to what just happened. "Did he just kill the bosses?"

"I guess so. I was expecting him to shoot us first or ignore us completely. Let's find Royce and find the others. We gotta rack up the kill count."


	7. Endgame

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

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Chapter 7 - **Endgame**

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General Shepard, overall commander of Task Force 141, was making an unscheduled stop at the base of his Task Force. He had been away for the last eight months, spending his time between the Pentagon and the base of his other unit, Shadow Company. He thought he'd check in on the guys in person, seeing if they had gone crazy from not having any missions to go on. Little did they know, but Shadow Company had been making leaps and bounds in the role of terrorist hunters. They were, currently, on the hunt for a known terror-cell and its leader, both based in Iraq.

"Sir, we're five mikes out. Best get your belt on sir, we're going to touch down into the headwind." The pilot of the privately owned OH-85 Kiowa swung the helicopter around, heading into the wind to make a landing on the base's helipad. But just short of 500m of the ground, the General spotted something. He could make out some of his soldiers crouched behind low walls and railings, covering around corners, running in short sprints, using tactics that they were trained to use. But why were they using them in base. As they got closer, Shepard could make out objects in their hands. They looked like guns, but there were no muzzle flashes, and they were in shapes he had not seen in a weapons platform.

Still, he made the choice to go in. Maybe when he got onto the ground, it might clear some doubts. The Kiowa made an uneventful landing, and as the General cleared the pad with his small carry-on bag, it took off again. When the area had calmed down, he looked around. The men he was earlier had disappeared. _What were they doing?_ He made his way towards admin, when he nearly slipped and fell over. Looking at his feet, he saw the ground was littered with small pink foam darts. _The hell are these? What on earth is going on?_

Shade had been one of the men near the pad when the Kiowa approached. He called a cease fire, knowing that the only man that would make a landing there would be Shepard.

"Hey! Check fire! I'm coming out!" He called to the guys he was fighting. "I think that's the General in that bird! We need to move outta here now. Forget about the fired rounds, when he sees us fucking around he'll shoot us all for real!" The second he finished that, he legged it. The others followed suit.

The guys who were still playing, minus Royce, Meat, Rook, Soap and Ghost, all regrouped in the rec-room. There was panic as word had spread that Shepard was here. He would not approve of such antics in the base. The 141 were trained Special Forces soldiers, not kids with toy guns.

"If he catches us, he's going to tear us two assholes." Said Roach, his face visibly worried.

"I can take new assholes. I can't stand losing my career," retorted Chemo. The room erupted with everyone's individual concerns, creating a massive noise. It stopped when Shade yelled over the top of everyone.

"Will all of you shut the fuck up?" The room went silent. "Listen, he can't fire us for having some fun. If we were all stone solid robots, we'd never get anything done. Fun helps morale, morale helps our combat effectiveness. Besides, Shepard can only tear so many new assholes."

"What can you say Shade. You've never had to be berated by him. We all have, once in our lives." Bishop's point made sense. Shade didn't know what to expect with Shepard.

"Well, I got a plan..."

_Outside admin..._

By the time Shepard had reached the admin block, he had counted over a thousand of those pesky foam darts. They were everywhere. Stuck in bricks, in gardens, on the roof, in the window frames. Just as he was about to enter, he heard a clatter of gear and footsteps. Around the corner ran a soldier, dressed in a light black vest, grey long sleeve shirt, DPCU trousers, and a DPCU cap. There was an Australian flag on the soldier's arm. There was also a nametag under the flag. He was also carrying a grey weapon, but was unlike anything he'd seen before.

"Shade?" The soldier stopped in his tracks, hearing his nickname being called. Turning, he saw Shepard and snapped to attention, throwing a salute.

"Corporal Thomas "Shade" Williams, sir!"

"At ease operator. Mind telling what is going on?" Shepard noticed that Shade's vest was filled with magazines, loaded with the same foam darts that were everywhere. "What's with all the gear? War break out and no-one tell me?

"Well, uh, you see..." Unknown to Shepard, Shade was deliberately drawing out his explanation, hoping to get Shepard mad.

"Spit it out Williams! What is going on?"

"It's, uh, kind of hard to explain sir..."

"Corporal, I give you three seconds to tell me exactly what is going on, or you will be going home as a civilian!"

"It's a skirmish sir. Toy gun skirmish."

"A what!? You mean to tell you me that my best task force is playing with toys?!" Shepard was visibly fuming at this reveal. "Shade, I am going to rip you a new one!"

"Then you'll have to rip us all a new one, sir." The voice caught Shepard off guard. Out of nowhere, the players of Shade's war game arrived, all fully loaded, weapons by their sides or resting on their shoulders. "With all due respect, we haven't had an op in months. This was the best way to blow off steam without risk of injury." Chemo was the speaker. "Without Shade's idea, we all would have gone stir crazy."

"So sir, what are you going to do?" Shade spoke up again, confidence showing. Shepard looked like he was going to explode. And he was, had Shade not tossed him his Maverick and a pack of darts.

"Sir. Start running."

The sight of sixteen gun barrels, despite them being of toy guns, had given Shepard enough incentive to turn around and start sprinting towards safety. He had only covered fifty meters when two more figures rounded the corner. They had belt fed guns slung on their backs, and were carrying a rifle and two sub-guns.

"Sir? We didn't expect you to be here!" Soap exclaimed. He had no idea that his superior had made a visit. "Sorry about this sir, but we're in the middle of something." Then Soap looked down the path and saw Shade with his party of fifteen loaded soldiers making their way towards them, weapons at the ready. "Then again, we can always finish this here. Ghost?"

"Way ahead of you sir." Ghost dropped his twin Rayvens and un-slung his Vulcan. Soap did the same, handing his rifle to Shepard. The two men had levelled their weapons towards the large force moving towards them. "You know what they say sir?"

"What Riley?" Shepard was facing Shade's group now.

"Rangers lead the way. Take point sir. We're right behind you." Ghost glanced at Soap, who winked back at him. They both had ulterior motives. Shepard took his cue upon Ghost's use of the Ranger battle call. He had only taken five steps when Soap and Ghost, as well as the sixteen men on the other side opened up. Shepard was played. A wave of foam darts flew towards Shepard, his last thoughts being processed at that moment.

_Oh shit..._


	8. Aftermath

Disclaimer - Some mild language, infrequent. No sexual references that I can pick up, but I may have let something past my radar. I don't own the characters apart from my OC, Shade.

Final chapter. Glad to have finished this. It was fun writing it.

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Chapter 8 - **Aftermath**

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Meat, Royce and Rook were the last men to return to the rec room, where the entire 141 had assembled after the war game was called to an end. They were surprised to see that Shepard was there as well, talking to Shade and Soap in the far corner. Shepard's face was scary to say the least. He was quietly tearing a new one into both men, Shade for organising such an event, and Soap for both not intervening and taking part. Shade looked torn apart. Soap just stood there, taking it all in. All three men stood at attention, and Soap saluted Shepard, who then turned and walked out at a brisk pace.

Soap patted Shade on the back, said a few words then followed after Shepard. Rook broke away from Meat and the group that gathered around him. They were starting to share war stories already, and it was not even a real war.

"Oi mate. What's bugging you? Looks like a freshwater just took off with your food." Rook tried to lighten up the mood, but to no avail. Shade just looked at him.

"It's nothing Rook. Just a new asshole, nothing else."

"What did he say though?"

"He said that I should not have organised this stunt, and that if someone got hurt to the point of not being able to fight, that I could have jeopardised my career. That and if I try to shoot him again, he'll shoot back with live ammo." Shade chuckled at that last bit.

"And Soap? What did he have to say?"

"Thanks. Thanks for the fun."

"Soap thought this was fun huh? Well, that is good at least, right?" Rook didn't get an answer, because Shade had wandered off to hear some of the stories being shared. He joined Meat, Royce, Hex, Reaper, Chemo and Scarecrow.

"So, both of you got killed within seconds?" Hex had asked. He had only stuck with his mate Deca, who for unknown reasons decided to camp on the far edge of the base, therefore missing all the action.

"Yea, Scarecrow and Shade nailed us while we were moving alongside the briefing hall. We were talking about why we avoided the rec room when out of nowhere; Scarecrow flew out and took a pot shot at me. Before I can fire back, Shade popped out low and hit both Reaper and I with solid hits. Scarecrow, you gotta teach me how to free run like that. It could come in handy for a future op." Chemo had recounted the fight with no exaggeration or anything. Said it as it was.

"Chemo, one does not simply learn to free run like me. It takes years and years of practise. By the time you got to my level, you'd have retired from the military. Or have gotten killed." Scarecrow had been crafty in his use of free running during this war. Countless times when they had to sprint from cover to cover, he had simply flown over and under obstacles that otherwise would have impeded Shade and the others. The war stories were violently interrupted when Soap re-entered the room.

"Ok everyone. Listen up. Shepard has something he wants me to tell you all. By sundown, all of the expended foam darts are to be collected. The base is to look like what it was before the battle broke out. Shade, collect and pack up the gear and store it. Shepard said for you to send them back home, but I'm telling you to keep them. We might have use for them still."

_The next day..._

The base had restored itself to the usual mood of train, train, rest, train, etc. And the high from the war had long since worn off. But the itch for combat that the 141 had was finally scratched. Every one could now focus on the next mission, a real mission, whenever that may be. Shade, Rook, and Roach were all at the range, blowing off some steam.

"Hey, Rook, feels weird to fire a real weapon after using those Nerf guns, am I right?" Roach asked. He had never used a Nerf gun up until yesterday. He found it odd at first; having to fight all his firearms safety training to use the Nerf guns on his friends. But after the first engagement, he got the hang of it. Shade, on the other hand, had been using Nerf guns longer than real weapons. He had no trouble making the adjustment. But to him, nothing compared to firing a real weapon. That feel of the weapon kicking back felt like heaven to him.

"Sort of, Roach. I personally prefer live ammo to foam darts," started Rook. "Live ammo gives me the assurance that the guy I shot is staying down, and will not get up to respawn." Still, Rook thought that yesterday was a blast. Everyone was still talking about it every break they could get. "Shade, promise me that next time we have a mission-free streak of longer than four months that we break out the Nerf guns and do that again, maybe with a bit more organisation next time."

"Don't you worry Rook. I've already got something arranged for the next war."


End file.
